


Wild

by royal_chandler



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Outdoor Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royal_chandler/pseuds/royal_chandler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie won’t question the bright joy that’s warming her skin better than the afternoon’s sun. She won’t question this happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't intend to have spanking. It just happened. It's probably god awful. I'm so sorry.

“Now where did you manage to find a copy of this morning’s paper?” Angie asks when she gets a closer look at the folded print that Peggy tries to hide in the picnic basket. She cocks her eyebrow. “You can’t really ever leave work behind can you?”

“Guilty,” Peggy says. As though she has to, it’s written all over her face.

Angie reaches to the space beside Peggy, leaning across her, deliberately close, to pick up a towel. She dries off before sinking into the grass beside Peggy. With more than a little fondness, she strokes back Peggy’s dark curls, gently brushes her knuckles against the skin of her cheek. “You're married to your job, I can respect that. Especially when you surprise me with a trip to a beautiful lakeside of all things. Makes being the dirty mistress worth it.”

To say she’d been surprised when Peggy approached her with a trip to North-South Lake would be an understatement. She’d been sure her ears were deceiving her. For one, neither one of them could really afford it. She still doesn’t know for sure who’s footing the bill. Peggy would only insist that she was cashing in on a favor from an old friend. Judging by their accommodations back in town—Angie’s whole childhood home could fit in their conjoined rooms for pete’s sake—and the privacy they have up here, it’s a ton of cash but Angie tries not to ask many questions. It’s not even the money that she’s most curious about.

Peggy’s a private person and Angie’s never minded that too much. She knew that from the beginning and that didn’t deter her from trying at a friendship, at more. However, sometimes, a little part of her wishes that she could get a look into Peggy’s pretty head, know what she’s thinking and know what she treasures. This vacation is wild for Peggy, wild for them. Up until now, it’s been hurried and hushed lovemaking in the Griffith House, far and few jaunts to underground nightclubs in the city, and private moments in abandoned areas that have no meaning to them—nothing of this sort. Angie wants to ask after the reason for this vacation but she figures that she really doesn’t have to. 

Angie won’t question the bright joy that’s warming her skin better than the afternoon’s sun. She won’t question this happiness.

Instead she kisses Peggy’s jaw, whispers a _thank you_ underneath where it’s too quiet for Peggy to hear. She pulls back with a smile. “Mind passing me a lemon bar?”

Peggy laughs as she passes one over. “Not sure I packed enough for your sweet tooth.”

“Probably not,” Angie says. She licks at the dusting of powdered sugar on her fingers before splitting the dessert in half. It always tastes better when one becomes two. “Let me be honest with you, okay. I could eat these until I’m swoll and well after that,” she admits, munching on them.

She nearly chokes on the last piece she’s swallowing when Peggy remarks, “I’ll try to remember that for next time.”

“I should warn you that I actually used to be a chubby kid, my mother still calls me her little meatball,” Angie tells her once she’s regained her composure, the confection no longer caught in her windpipe. Nervously, having nothing to do with her affinity for sweets, she asks, “Are you sure that's something you want to sign on for?”

Peggy’s gaze is intense, her meaning palpable. It’s like a touch, and like with skin on skin, it elicits a stir in Angie. “Of course I’m sure.” 

All at once and with the ferocity of a hard wave, want takes over Angie and suddenly she’s not satisfied with delicate affection. There’s no one but them for acres, their mysterious beneficiary had made sure of that so Angie leans in for a heavy kiss.

She tips Peggy back onto the soft ground and moans at the feeling of her still wet suit making friction against Peggy's dry one, their thighs fitting in between each other's bare legs. When she curls her tongue into the heat of Peggy's mouth, one of those legs bends over her waistline. Angie presses up into it, turned on by Peggy and the freedom they have to do this under an endless sky. Absently, she pushes the rest of the lemon bars to a safe and far distance.

Breaking their frantic kiss, she meets Peggy's eyes. The sun brings out the lighter brown in them, the color of pure honey. Like always the word love sits at the tip of her tongue, nearly overwhelming the inside of her, wanting out. "Pinch me," she orders lightly, needing to know that this isn't something she dreamed up because right now her life feels so impossible. 

Voice thick with lust, Peggy regards her with an accessing stare. Her hand inches up and under the flared skirt of Angie's swimsuit bottom. "Where?" 

Oh, Angie is all for playful. "You're getting warm."

The hand brushes the sensitive top of her thigh and over the rise of her backside. It splays out there, feels like a brand on this hot day. 

Angie arches against her, feels herself becoming a brand new wet. "I think that you've just about found it."

"Is that right?"

" _Peggy_."

Peggy pinches her, hard, and Angie shivers into a gasp. 

"You enjoyed that. God, that’s brilliant," Peggy notes in a wondrous tone, watching her. She presses a kiss to Angie's temple before brushing her lips over Angie's ear. "Would you mind terribly if I spanked you?"

And those words out of that sophisticated and proper mouth sends a jolt right up Angie's spine. She grips at Peggy, shifts so she’s straddling her moreso, her knees planted in the earth on either side of Peggy’s hips. She rocks up to press their foreheads together, breathe Peggy in. “That’s about the last thing I expected out of you, English.”

“That’s not an answer,” Peggy says, her rouge mouth full and taunting, wicked.

Angie laughs, a little breathless. “What do you think?”

“Perhaps I’m a stickler for details.” She strokes a finger down Angie’s cheek. Soft and as near to vulnerable as Angie’s ever seen her, she continues, “Tell me. Tell me things that you can’t tell me any place else. There’s no one here except for us.”

“I love how opportunistic you are,” Angie says. She pecks at Peggy quick and then stands, hushing Peggy’s protest on her way up. Even though she’s aware that they’re alone, she still spares a glance toward the lake and the trees before she shoves down the bottom of her suit and steps out of it. She undoes the back of her top. She grins at the want directed her way, glad to have been the cause. She still doesn’t know what Peggy sees in her. There’s the age difference and she’s an idiot more days than not but Peggy still looks at her as though she’s something precious, desirable—like she can’t be found elsewhere and Angie will always be greedy for that. She curves back around Peggy’s hips and they situate themselves to get the perfect angle. Executively, she decides to rid of Peggy’s top as well, admiring the fall of the other woman’s breasts. She might stare for a while because they are really nice.

“I want it again, want your hand on me,” she asserts. She can feel her face warming because the ruler-wielding tone is Peggy’s thing but at least her voice doesn’t waver. “I want you to make me holler out here. You got that?”

Peggy nods formally even though half of her mouth is in a smirk. “Yes, ma’am,” she replies and there’s no warning before she lands a sharp strike on Angie’s flesh.

The swat sets sparks under Angie’s skin and she nearly keens when another firm slap follows, hitting the same spot that will undoubtedly be tanned in no time. Shamelessly, she begs for more.

“Harder, please, give it to me harder,” she murmurs, thrilled with the possessive arm that Peggy has wrapped in a tight lock around her to keep her from scrambling, the feeling of their breasts pressed together, and the sting of a smooth but hard hand. 

Peggy doesn’t ask if she’s sure, just does as commanded and it’s loud in the quiet around them, has Angie moaning, “Yes. Like that again.”

They’re caught in another kiss, tongues about tied a slap that’s measured just the same returns to her sensitive skin. She cries into Peggy’s mouth, tears aways when it starts to come faster. She shoots up with nowhere to go but further into Peggy’s embrace. 

“Ah, Christ,” she whines over Peggy’s shoulder when the end of her is burning hot and her exhales are cutting edges into the still around them. Her skin feels as thin as a balloon. She shivers when Peggy’s hand brushes against her side, skims the line of her leg.

Soon seeking fingers slip in between her thighs and rub against her, teasing her folds, just keeping from the inside of her. Peggy pulls back and looks up at her. “You’re so wet, Angie,” she remarks. “I have no clue what to do with you.”

“Give me your fingers,” Angie tells her, hoarse and almost immediately. “Want to ride your fingers.”

“How many do you want?” Peggy asks, inquisitive and low. 

Angie demands three and soon she’s grinding down on the swift and skilled thrust of Peggy’s fingers, making desperate and greedy noises. She’s being taken apart and it’s the greatest thing she’s ever felt, burning from the inside out. “Yes, oh, _oh_ , Peggy. Yes.”

“That’s it, darling,” Peggy urges, mouth grazing on Angie’s collarbone. She starts moving her thumb against Angie’s clit while continuing to roughly fuck her, shoving her fingers in hard and deep. “Come on. Come for me. You’re so gorgeous. Wish you could see yourself. Let go for me, love. I love you; let me see you.”

Her orgasm crashes through her, feels like it has the power to echo for miles, carry her far away. It’s the first time that she’s ever gotten to shout Peggy’s name from the top of her lungs, be unequivocally true about who’s in heart. 

She’s still rattling within herself when she lets go again. “I love you,” she confesses, rapturous. Not a whisper, not muffled, nothing to be misunderstood. “I _love_ you. I love you.” There’s a burning behind her eyes and she’s never been so happy. The burst of emotion catches her off-guard and she’s actually crying. 

Kind hands hold her head and fingers comb through her hair, solid and very real. Peggy doesn’t try to quiet her sobs. She only kisses Angie once and it tastes like salt, more like the sea and then she continues to let her have this, let her finally bask in a moment that has no limit.


End file.
